


favourite boy

by maddielle



Series: that big picture 'verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Future, Boys Kissing, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Communication, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Future Fic, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle
Summary: “You don’t have to hold back on my account. I’m good to go, dude, I’m ready for anything.”“I know,” Derek said, with a rueful expression. “But I’m not.”Ah.Derek and Stiles take the first tentative steps in their new relationship.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski
Series: that big picture 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614649
Comments: 8
Kudos: 444





	favourite boy

**Author's Note:**

> reunions make me feel soft
> 
> set at the end of stiles' freshman year at uni

Derek didn’t like being nervous.

If he had to guess how strangers perceived him, he’d probably go with stronger descriptors such as standoffish or grim or begrudging. He wasn’t totally unaware of how he came across, though he was definitely more likely now than he’d been three or four years ago to make an effort to be cordial. He noticed how members of the construction team at the site of the new house were more and more likely to share a smile and a _good morning_ , and how visitors to the preserve didn’t avoid eye contact so much when he went out for a run on the trails.

Cora had said he was going soft when she’d called him from Sweden. Melissa had said it was nice to see him settling in when he’d driven across town to fix some siding on the Stilinski house. Stiles affectionately called it ‘The Reintegration into Society of Derek Hale’.

Still, no matter how much self-confidence he seemed to have built, Derek couldn’t escape this very human emotion. _Nervousness._

He was leaning back against the hood of the Camaro at a lonely gas station about a half hour drive outside of Beacon Hills’ town centre. At about nine pm, the sky was a hazy dark blue, and the air had a slight chill to it despite the date being close to the end of April. He could see down the main highway to where to road turned and disappeared, lined with thick California forest, and he could sense the moon high in the sky behind him by the gentle tug in his chest he only felt if he paid attention to it.

Derek couldn’t exactly blame his tension on that, given that it was only in its waning crescent phase. He’d passed the full moon with a couple of old family friends settled in southern Oregon only a week before. No, Derek’s current source of discomfort was decidedly human in nature. It was, in fact, a human.

A human hopefully arriving on the bus that had just come into view, the sole vehicle parting the night with its headlights.

Derek followed its progress down the offramp to the side road where it turned off into the gas station parking lot. On the far side of the lot, a handful of people got out of their parked cars and approached the slowing bus to await travelling family and friends. Derek let out a breath and stayed where he was.

He couldn’t see where travellers were exiting the coach, but he kept a trained ear out for a familiar heartbeat, his own picking up when he narrowed in on it. A bit faster than everyone else’s, but just as strong and steady as always. A long moment later, Stiles rounded the back of the bus with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a duffel hanging from the other.

Derek studied him discretely as the younger man walked closer. Stiles looked physically well, face lighting up when catching sight of Derek, except for slight evidence of a tough week of final exams: dark circles, flyaway hair, and the light scent of exhaustion mixed with stale recycled air.

“Should have known you’d be lurking in the shadows,” Stiles said, dropping his bags to the ground close to the car.

Derek frowned. “I’m not lurking.” He then took stock of just how far he’d parked from the rest of the greeters. “Not that much.”

“Don’t worry,” Stiles laughed, stepping into Derek’s space. “It’d be too out of character if you weren’t always acting just a bit suspicious. I’d be worried about a shapeshifter or something.”

Then his arms were around Derek’s shoulders and they were hugging tightly, chests pressed together, toes bumping. Derek felt Stiles’ chilled nose nudge under his jaw, pushed his own into the smooth, warm skin of Stiles’ neck. He cradled the back of Stiles’ head. Derek couldn’t help the instinct to breathe deeply and deliberately, bathing himself in the scent of _relief_ and _safe_ and _mate._ Even if it was too soon to admit that last one out loud.

Stiles hummed happily as if picking up on the feeling despite his lack of werewolf senses.

“I missed you,” he said, drawing back just enough to meet Derek’s gaze. “I don’t know who decided that the day before spring break ending was a good time to start dating, but that was a terrible idea.”

“I think it was yours,” Derek said, bringing up hand to trace a thumb under Stiles’ eye.

“Really? Ugh. I’m an idiot.” Stiles was smiling as he said it.

“You might be.”

“Come on, you can’t be mean before you’ve even kissed me.”

“No?” Derek said, arching an eyebrow.

“No. It’s the rules.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, you dumb sourwolf,” Stiles said, angling his head. “Now, hurry up, before I decide to get back on that bus and leave you hanging.”

Derek couldn’t argue with that demand.

It was only their fifth kiss, sixth if Derek counted the quick peck he’d gotten back in March as Stiles’ had set off in the Jeep to finish his freshman year at UC Berkeley. Which he did. He’d spent days, weeks, waiting to do it again, and it felt so reassuring to tug at Stiles’ lips with his own, coax his mouth open just a little, and know he wouldn’t have to wait so long for the next opportunity.

Stiles’ eyes were hooded when Derek pulled back with a final lingering kiss.

“Damn. You’re still really good at that,” he muttered, fingers flexing against Derek’s chest. “You haven’t been practicing without me, have you?”

Derek snorted softly. “No, I haven’t.”

“Cool.”

“Just thinking about it a lot.”

Stiles smiled brightly. “Thinking about kissing? Thinking about kissing _me?_ ”

“Yes, you.” Derek huffed, and then lowered his mouth touch his lips to the shell of Stiles’ ear. “Thinking about a lot more too.”

Stiles shivered and let out a slow breath. “Can’t wait to revisit those thoughts at some point,” he said, voice faint.

“Me either,” Derek admitted, leaning back reluctantly. “But you have some people at home who are excited to see you, and I don’t think I’d be doing us a favour in regards to your dad if I delivered you an hour later than promised.”

“An hour? I only need like two minutes; have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

Derek stared at him flatly.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, throwing up his hands and backing up. “Pop the trunk and help me with my bags, wolfman. Let’s get back to the welcome committee.”

Derek had expected the drive to be uneventful at best with Stiles conked out against the window, snoring, but he should have known that a six-hour bus ride would do nothing except fill his passenger to bursting with stories to tell and energy to spend. During the half hour needed to reach the Stilinski house, Derek heard in great detail about everything from the mysterious lump in Stiles’ dorm room bed to the unknown soup available every Thursday in the cafeteria to exactly why the last question on the Intro to Programming final had been so unfair.

“The function was literally called out of order in the booklet,” Stiles was still complaining as the Camaro finally pulled into the driveway. “Like, backwards. So stupid. Anyway, we’re all gonna sign a petition to submit to the dean for a retest.” He then suddenly seemed to realize where they were. “Hey! That was quick.”

“It’s surprising the places you’ll end up when not paying attention.”

“Bite me. You love my incessant chatter.”

Derek just shook his head as he killed the engine and set the hand brake, unwilling to admit agreement.

In the doorway of the house, Derek hung back with both of Stiles’ bags in hand while the younger man flung himself at his father enthusiastically. John Stilinski barely had a moment to breathe before he had an armful of excited son, but the sudden relaxation of his facial expression upon having his offspring within reach again had something yearning unfold in Derek’s chest.

“Derek,” John said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Thanks for picking him up so late.”

“It’s no problem, sir. The conversation kept me awake on the drive back.”

“I have no doubt it did,” John chuckled, as Stiles made a face. “Come on in, we have dinner waiting.” Before disappearing inside, John cuffed his son on the back of the head, affectionately. “Stiles, carry your own bags in.”

“I literally just got here,” Stiles complained at his back, before turning to confront Derek. “Hey. No ganging up against me with my own dad. That’s also against the rules.”

“Where is this rulebook you keep referencing?” Derek asked, lifting the bags to set them in the hall. He nudged the door closed with a foot once Stiles had wiggled past him.

“I wrote it in my head once while bored in calculus.”

“I see.”

“Stiles!”

Melissa appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and immediately drew Stiles into a firm hug, rubbing his back.

“Good to see you home in once piece, kiddo,” she said. Upon pulling back, she reached out and squeezed Derek’s arm. “Good to see you too, hon.”

Derek ducked his chin. “You too, Ms McCall.”

“Melissa,” she corrected, fondly. “I hope you boys are hungry. Your dad’s spent all afternoon slaving away in here, Stiles.”

“Don’t rat me out,” John said from by the stove.

“You cooked, Dad?” Stiles asked in wonder, plopping himself down in a chair at the dining table. Derek pulled out the chair next to him.

“I had to survive somehow when you left,” his dad said with a shrug. “Melissa’s been helping me out.”

“He does have a knack for it,” she commented, taking plates from a cupboard.

John covered a pot on the stove and turned around, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “It’ll be five minutes. Something to drink for everyone?”

Stiles opened his mouth to blurt something, and then quickly caught himself. At the almost-outburst, John rolled his eyes and opened the fridge to grab two beers in one hand. He placed on in front of Derek, who nodded in thanks, and the other in front of Stiles.

“Only in the house,” he said, warningly. Stiles gaped.

“Sweet! Seriously?”

“It’s not like I don’t have an idea of what you kids get up to at college.”

Surreptitiously sliding a hand around the perspiring bottle, Stiles pursed his lips. “I feel like you have an overblown idea of what my life has been like for the past eight months. I have decent grades and I do try to sleep at least six hours a night. That automatically means that my social life is decidedly not lit.”

Melissa has a knowing smile on her face as she set cutlery on the table. “I don’t know about that. Scott did let slip about a certain end-of-year dorm party that happened a few weeks ago.”

“Scott is such a shit,” Stiles moaned.

“What party was this?” Derek asked, intrigued.

“Some upperclassmen bought our floor a crap ton of booze,” Stiles said, a hand over his eyes. “I was hungover for like four days.”

“What was that?” John called.

“Nothing, Dad!” Stiles yelped as Derek chuckled into his beer.

“Speaking of my son,” Melissa said, sliding into a chair across from Stiles and Derek. “Any word from him today?”

Stiles shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle. “He’s probably cramming. His last exam is tomorrow, early. Same with Danny."

“So... just four of the pack in Beacon Hills for the summer?”

Stiles made deliberate eye contact with Derek, who sighed and said, “Looks like it, for now. Allison made it pretty clear she isn’t ready to come home from travelling yet. Erica and Boyd are currently spending time with a pack in Canada, at least until the fall. Isaac is taking summer courses until sometime in June.”

“You hear from Allison?” Stiles interrupted curiously.

“Not really. She sometimes talks to Isaac, who lets Scott know what he needs to. She’s still pack, according to him, albeit a bit distantly at the moment.”

Melissa hummed thoughtfully. “Lydia and Jackson?”

“Spending most of the summer in Palo Alto,” Stiles told her. “She landed a research position, of course. Cora’s still in Europe, I think,” Derek nodded in confirmation, “and... Yeah. That’s everyone.”

Since taking over as sole alpha, Scott hadn’t made it a priority to expand their ranks. He’d made it clear that he wanted everyone to concentrate on establishing their own lives following the craziness that had been their high school years, and Derek had admitted to himself at the time that the decision made sense. For the seven wolves in the pack especially, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to feel pack bonds stretched over long distances. On the other hand, each member, human and wolf, was getting the opportunity to grow and mature, which in turn strengthened the pack as a whole.

When other werewolves or old friends of Talia Hale’s got in contact with Derek from time to time, there was often confusion as to why he, the beta of a non-Hale alpha, was essentially by himself in Beacon Hills, unofficially guarding the land that used to belong to his mother. His answer was always the same.

_It wasn’t for me._

Leading had always been Laura’s birthright, before her death. Finally giving up the mantle of alpha to Scott had set something right inside Derek that he’d been fighting against for years.

He looked up as Stiles curled a hand around his wrist.

“It’ll be a quiet summer,” Stiles said to the room, while looking at Derek. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing given our history.”

Derek couldn’t agree more.

Later, after a satisfying supper of penne with homemade pesto, Stiles followed him out onto the front porch after Derek had said his goodbyes to John and Melissa.

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little bummed its so late,” Stiles was saying, as Derek stepped down onto the driveway and turned around. Stiles, in socked feet, stayed on the front step.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I feel like we haven’t had five minutes.”

Derek shrugged a shoulder and stepped in closer. “It’s just day one.” He rested his hands on Stiles hips. “We have all summer.”

A small smile grew on Stiles’ lips as he considered that thought. “That’s true. Hey, that’s kind of awesome.”

At the gentle tug at his waist, he leaned down slightly and met Derek for a lingering goodnight kiss.

“Get some rest, okay?” Derek ordered, backing up with his car keys in one hand. “You look dead on your feet.”

“Yessir.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

It was hard not to watch Stiles’ lanky form grow smaller in the rear-view mirror like a lovestruck teenager after a first date, but Derek managed not to knock over any mailboxes driving out to the main road, so he considered that a win.

After the rollercoaster ride that had been freshman year, Stiles found it difficult to wind down during the first week back in Beacon Hills. As much as he’d complained, he kind of missed the late-night study sessions and endless hours cramming in the library. He’d gotten used to have his new Berkley friends around 24/7 to keep his brain occupied, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he started driving his dad up the wall.

Luckily, after bumming around the house for two days bemoaning his boredom, Scott and Danny arrived, and the three of them spent a solid weekend catching up on all the Call of Duty they’d had to abstain from in the past month. The downtime was nice, with Scott and Stiles’ summer jobs not starting until the middle of May, and Danny killing time before jetting off to Hawaii with his parents for a month.

With the steadily warming weather, construction of Derek’s house had ramped up, and Stiles hadn’t seen as much of his new boyfriend as he would have liked. When Scott brought it up the Sunday night before his first shift at the animal clinic, Stiles just shrugged.

“I’ve driven over a few times,” he said absently, groaning as his avatar died dramatically onscreen. “It’s busy over there; he does a lot of hands-on work with the crew.”

Scott gave him a sideways glance.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just kinda thought you’d be all over each other once you got back.”

“We have all summer,” Stiles said, to which Scott snorted.

“You’ve never had an ounce of patience in your life. What gives?”

When Stiles lost again, he tossed his controller on the couch and reached for his soda can with a sigh. “I don’t know, man. It’s still so new. I really didn’t want to come back to town and accidentally be super clingy and annoying, and, plus, it’s Derek. He likes his space.”

“Maybe, but he’s also had a thing for you since you were sixteen.”

“Dude.”

“It’s true!” Scott shot him a grin. “He couldn’t hide shit. Werewolf senses, remember?”

“As if I could ever forget,” Stiles replied, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe he’s trying to give you space, too,” Scott continued, queuing up another round on the TV.

“Why would he do that?”

Scott was quiet for a second, considering. “He probably doesn’t want to fuck things up. His track record with relationships isn’t exactly sparkling.”

Scott’s observation stuck with Stiles for the rest of the night and into the following morning when he drove off to his first shift at the local library branch. He’d been lucky to get hired as a summer IT intern, tasked with cleaning up and monitoring some of the library’s databases. He didn’t anticipate the job being overly exciting, but the pay was definitely better than minimum wage, and any experience related to his degree was welcome.

Once the day was over and he’d waved goodbye to Tania, his only companion for the summer and the front desk receptionist, Stiles got into his car and sat for few minutes, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He then came to a decision and slotted his key into the ignition.

Activities on the Hale property seemed to be winding down by the time Stiles pulled up. One truck remained, its bed stacked high with lumber. Two guys dressed down in paint splattered work clothes and steel-toed boots were pulling out a few pieces each to carry inside. As they turned towards the bare skeleton of the new house, Derek appeared in what would eventually be the front doorway to direct them.

Stiles huffed in amusement at the sight. Derek had also adhered to the site dress code, his outfit complete with the same heavy boots and bright hardhat as the others. Stiles kind of doubted looking that sinful in a black t-shirt and old jeans was required, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Hey, you,” Stiles called, walking up to the temporary front steps but not venturing further. He’d been chewed out once already for risking his delicate noggin inside the danger zone.

Derek smiled, appearing tired but fulfilled. “Hey. How was the first day?”

“Long, not super exciting.”

“Sounds like fun.” The two crew members exited the house sans armfuls of wood planks, and Derek nodded at them. “Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow.”

After the truck disappeared from view down the long driveway to the main road, Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets. “You got a second?”

“Sure. I was just gonna grab some water from the car.”

Stiles trailed after Derek as he approached the Camaro and opened the drunk, retrieving two chilled bottles from a small cooler. He offered one to Stiles, who accepted gratefully, and they leaned against the car. Facing the house, Stiles could really appreciate how much work had been done in only three months. He said as much to Derek.

“Brady said we’re a bit ahead of schedule,” Derek told him, referencing the project manager he’d hired. “Should be done by September, hopefully.”

“That’s awesome,” Stiles said, genuinely. “I hope I get to see the final result for school starts again.”

“Mm.” Derek took a long pull from his bottle, baring his throat as he drank. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, kinda. It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Stiles dragged the toe of his sneaker through the gravel underfoot. “I’m not, like, annoying you or being too clingy, am I?”

Derek stared at him, bottle halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“I just mean- I’ve known you for a while, dude, and I know you like having your space.” Stiles gestured to the partially constructed house. “You’re busy with stuff, I get it. This is all just so new to me, but I’ve wanted it for so long, and the _last_ thing I wanna do is irritate you away from me or something.”

Derek closed his eyes momentarily. “You don’t irritate me, Stiles.”

“I guess I just thought… It might be a bit different, once I got back? I dunno, man, Scott said some shit.” Words kept tumbling out of his mouth. “I know it’s only been two weeks. I’ve just wanted to jump your bones for months now, and I’ve been fantasizing about you pretty much from the day we first met, but part of me feels like you might be pulling back and maybe regretting-”

“No,” Derek cut in, sharply. He pushed off the car to stand directly in front Stiles and meet his eyes directly. “Not at all. I don’t regret this.”

Stiles let out a slow breath. “Okay.”

“I want you,” Derek admitted. “This is new for me too.”

Stiles reached out to run a hand down the other man’s forearm to his hand. “You don’t have to hold back on my account. I’m good to go, dude, I’m ready for anything.”

“I know,” Derek said, with a rueful expression. “But I’m not.”

Ah.

Understanding dawning on him, Stiles let the tension drop out of his shoulders and leaned back against the car. He couldn’t help a small laugh, to which Derek frowned. Stiles quickly waved a hand to clear away any misunderstanding.

“No, no,” he said. “I’m just relieved. I thought I was doing something wrong.”

“What would you be doing wrong?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s kind of been a running theme in my life.” Stiles folded his arms over his chest and nodded. “Okay. You wanna take things slow. We’ll go at your pace.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet hopeful. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. You said we had all summer. So, let’s take all summer.”

Derek smelled a little like old sweat, and a bit of sawdust dislodged from his hair to tickle Stiles’ nose, but hugging his werewolf felt as satisfying and right as it always did. Because he could, Stiles snuck a kiss under Derek’s ear, enjoying in the bashful smile he'd earned upon pulling back.

They had time, finally.

Stiles could get on board with that.

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell that healthy romantic communication is a kink of mine


End file.
